i am sally,
no one's dolly frump,
torn by miles that unstitch me as
a severing cut,
of three or four or maybe more.
there is not him to count the pieces from
head to shed to toes when born.
the slinged coma i was unfound within
held bits together -- shorn fingertips
and abdomen undone, a reposed torso,
a diorama completion.
© JODI ANDERSON. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
